


Come Home William Byers

by ChunkMonk



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 1990's, Angst, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Reunion, Romance, Unrequited Love, adult characters, brief mentions of major character death not graphic, brief mentions of original male character, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 03:11:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12902688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChunkMonk/pseuds/ChunkMonk
Summary: "It had been ten years since Will had set foot back in Hawkins. Ten years since graduation and the unceremonious removal of caps and gowns as the gang had all gone their separate ways, scattered into the wind as if the last few years of their lives hadn’t meant anything. Will had run faster and further than any of them. Perhaps it had been too much, and the distance was the only thing that could save him."





	Come Home William Byers

**Author's Note:**

> Here is something I started work on before other fics. It's done, I hope you enjoy, and now I can finish my other stuff.

It had been ten years since Will had set foot back in Hawkins. Ten years since graduation and the unceremonious removal of caps and gowns as the gang had all gone their separate ways, scattered into the wind as if the last few years of their lives hadn’t meant anything. Will had run faster and further than any of them. Perhaps it had been too much, and the distance was the only thing that could save him.

It had been ten years since he’d lost Jonathan to the shadow monster, the result of a Hawkins lab experiment gone awry. The corporeal manifestation of all the deepest fears of the citizens of a small town, gone rogue when the powerful mind harnessed to create such a power was no longer able to control it.

The memory of that time was still fresh in his mind, still raw, like a wound that threatened to rip open at the slightest touch. Will had done the best he could to move on; when school was done he had packed the trunk of the used Ford Festiva he’d managed to save up enough money to buy during junior year, and headed out west, as far away from the memories and the small minds he wanted to avoid. He ended up in San Francisco, a place where he’d finally felt he fit in, and took a dingy one-room apartment in the Castro, situated over a diner–one that he’d been lucky enough to nab a job at.  
The work had been shit, the pay even shittier, but he had been finally free to start again. No one there knew his name, his past, and his pain was kept tightly locked away. To the outside world he’d been nothing more than another transplant from the Midwest, with a friendly face and dreams of something more. 

After a year, a better apartment, and a succession of questionable roommates he’d taken on in order to keep said apartment, he’d finally gotten the guts to put together his portfolio and apply to art school.  
He’d gotten in on a full scholarship, which was probably the only way he would have been able to attend. His Mom had been burdened enough without him having to ask for money, and his Father was too busy drinking it away to care what his son did. There he had flourished; his art had come a long way since his first scribbles done in crayons at the kitchen table, and the admissions advisors there had been effusive with praise for his “dark” and “dream-like” work. As they had flipped through his portfolio with interest it had dawned on Will that the past he thought he’d left behind was all over his work. Hawkins. The Upside Down. El. The horror and loss he’d endured, and the one beautiful face he’d tried so hard to forget.

San Francisco was good to him though. He’d found catharsis and healing in his art, had found himself a group of like minded friends to share in his life, had even found his first boyfriend, and then another and another. He had early mornings and late nights and break ups and hangovers. He marched in pride parades and danced in clubs and had deep conversations about what the hell he was going to do after school. Will had the fortune to live a completely normal life for the first time in a very long time.

Will had met Gio during his last year at art school, when he was helping to create a mural for World AIDS Day and the two had clicked instantly. He was originally from Rome and had moved to California when he was fifteen, his family moving all up and down the coast until they’d settled in Chinatown of all places. He had dark eyes and dark hair, and if he’d reminded Will of a certain someone in particular, Gio was none the wiser.

After a year of dating they’d moved in together, and Will had long since graduated and nabbed himself a job doing commercial art work for a prestigious advertising company. It was hardly the avant guard artistic lifestyle he’d dreamed of, but things like that weren’t realistic and he had bills to pay. His life was good, it was stable, and he’d been inching closer and closer to thirty feeling nothing but content.   
Until the seemingly ordinary Tuesday when he’d gotten home from work and noticed it, sitting innocuously on the entry way table, atop the stack of mail that he’d tossed there the other day but had barely glanced at. A bright blue envelope with a very familiar logo and the words ‘Hawkins High School’ emblazoned across it. Instantly Will’s chest clenched, like an icy hand had reached into him and squeezed his heart. Slowly he pulled it out of the pile and ran his finger through the seal, slicing it open. Two sheets of paper tumbled out; it was just as he’d feared.

 

**Will Byers,**

**You are cordially invited to attend the Hawkins High School Class of 1989, 10 year reunion on July 10th, 1999. Join us for a night of dinner, drinks and dancing in the ballroom of the Hawkins Reserve Convention Center. Please RSVP at (317)867-5309 by June 1st. We hope you can attend!**

**Sincerely,  
The Hawkins High School Alumni Activities Council**

 

It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten invited to a reunion–he’d crumbled the five year invitation and grumbled at how they’d been able to track down his address–but something about this had him faltering. Ten years. Ten whole fucking years since he’d been home. Ten years since he’d seen, or even talked to, his old friends. He was hit with a sudden wave of shame for how things ended, and for how he’d just… given up on the most important people in his life. Would any one else be going? Did they still live in town? Did they still talk to each other or get together? Did they wonder what on earth ever happened to Will Byers?

Will had never been one to use the internet much, he knew it had many practical applications, but something about it always put him off. He knew it was possible to look up people on it–Gio had been quite moody when he’d looked up an ex boyfriend to find out he’d gotten engaged–but Will had never done it. Suddenly it was all he wanted to do.

Dropping his keys to the table, he shucked off his shoes and made his way to the computer in the corner nook of the living room. He logged on, his fingers flying over the keys. One by one, names and faces from his past populated the screen. Dustin Henderson, engaged to a Leslie Smith, working as a science teacher at Hawkins High. Lucas Sinclair, moved to Indianapolis and was an engineer, married to a Max Sinclair. He married Max? Holy shit. Part of him stung from the slight of not being invited, but what had he expected? He hadn’t reached out in a decade and as far as his old friends knew, he could have been anywhere on the planet.

He could have been dead.

Will was less sure he would find anything for Jane Hopper, and he was mostly correct. There was no information on a Jane Hopper besides a link that had her name as an ex student of Hawkins High. There were however a plethora of articles that popped up at the surname Hopper–mostly about some spectacular arrest Jim had made in 1996 that somehow had become national news–as well as ones from that horrible night they’d lost Jonathan, and he’d needed a nice long break until he was ready to start searching again.

By the time he’d gotten up the courage to look up that last name, the name that he’d wanted to know about more than anyone else, it was already getting dark out, and Gio would be home any time now. He had to get it over with. 

‘Mike Wheeler’ he typed into the search engine, his fingers trembling. He hadn’t so much as said that name out loud in years, and the action of typing it was almost overwhelming. The page loaded slowly and he scrolled through the results until he found something. Michael Wheeler, criminal law, graduated Columbia University Law School, currently resided in New York City. 

There was little else; no marriage announcements or birth announcements. There was an article about how he’d been made the youngest junior partner ever at Feinstein & Strauss, and a brief blurb about his involvement in a local charity race, but nothing of note….until he hit a few pages back in his search. 

There was a link to a website for Columbia’s extra curricular groups and associations, and it took him to an archived page that was filled with several pictures and a local newspaper write up from 1994. “University Students Feel the Pride of Diversity” the headline read, and the last picture on the page was of several students hunched over a table, and on the left hand side, smiling that unmistakable smile, was Mike. His hair was shorter, his shoulders broader, and he was no longer the lanky teenager Will had last seen.

But when Will’s eyes read the caption of the photo, that’s when the bottom dropped out of his world. 

_“Members of Columbia’s LGBT Equality Organization ready their signs for this years pride parade. Mike Wheeler said “I’m really thrilled to be participating this year. It’s my first year doing so, and as a recently out bisexual man, I think it’s important that we have as much positive visibility as we can.”_

Will’s heart began to beat double time in his chest. He felt dizzy. This….this was unexpected. This changed everything. He didn’t know how he was breathing, how he was managing to stay upright, and the next thing he recalled was Gio, a few inches away from his face, looking concerned.

“Honey, are you alright? You look white as a sheet!”

But his voice sounded miles away, as if someone had stuffed cotton in Will’s ears. The last time he’d felt this way–so utterly helpless and divorced from his body–was when he’d been in the Upside Down. Now it was because of the realization that for all the years he’d been hiding from his past, he could have had a chance with Mike. He could have had him. It wasn’t too late. Was it? Would he even be there at the reunion? What were the chances he would go?

“Honey, honey you gotta talk to me. You’re scaring me.” Gio’s dark eyes met his, wide and frightened. Will loved him, he truly did, but it wasn’t the same and he’d always known it deep down. He felt an acute stab of guilt go through him, but he couldn’t help it. There had only ever been one boy for Will Byers, and unfortunately he wasn’t the handsome, kind hearted soul crouched down in front of him. He was all the way across the country, oblivious to the fact that somewhere out there someone had never stopped loving him.

“I….I have to go to home. To Hawkins.” Was all Will said in reply.

——

Will had to go home, and by the time he was done explaining this to Gio in babbling words, full of stops and starts, he insisted on going with him. Part of him was probably insisting because he was truly interested in seeing Will’s past (he had always pushed the idea of the two of them going to Hawkins for the holidays some year), and the other was concerned that Will was in the midst of a stroke or something. He couldn’t tell him no, even if in that moment he’d wanted nothing more than to break up with him, as utterly cruel as it would’ve  been. It was rash and impetuous and a reaction completely borne of shock, and after it wore off, Will was glad that he’d had at least some ability remain rational.

Will loved Gio and Mike was just….a specter from his past. Someone he had unrequited feelings for, and lack of closure was bound to make anyone a little crazy. That’s all it was; he would have been a fool to throw it all away–the years, the memories. Gio and him were good. They loved each other. Will had never questioned it before today. They were happy.

Weren’t they? Yes, a little of the heat had gone away, but that was typical of any long term relationship. Passion never lasted and if you were lucky you could end up comfortable, and that’s exactly what they were.

Besides, it had been a decade, and yes Mike was technically playing for his team, but he had no idea if he was even single. Or if he could even feel that way for Will. They’d known each other since kindergarten, and it was possible Mike only felt a brotherly bond for him. No, not possible, but probable. It was ridiculous. The idea of him and Mike together was nothing but a fantasy to entertain him while he was commuting to work, or in the shower (which was a bad idea for various reasons) but not something that could ever happen.

The two months leading up to the reunion he spent in a permanent state of indecision about just what the hell he was going to do, and though he’d RSVP’d right away, it took him till the last minute to actually book the flight.

Will called his Mom to let her know that he would finally be making it back home, and she was ecstatic. She’d come out three times in those long ten years, but she hated flying, so their communication had been limited to long distance phone calls and now emails.

One night, a week before they were to leave, Gio wrapped an arm around Will’s waist as they laid in bed, both of them dancing on the thin line between wakefulness and sleep, and muttered into his chest. “I can’t wait to meet all your friends, see where you grew up.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Was all Will could say, and he had to physically bite his tongue to keep everything that was inside him from spilling out. He couldn’t possibly say:

_I’m glad you’re excited but there’s no guarantee any of them will actually be there and I have no way of knowing because I haven’t spoken to any of them in a decade. Not since the traumatic events of that one night where my brother died battling a monster from another dimension, hell bent on world domination, and that the only reason I even want to go back to that place is the possibility that I might see the man I’ve been madly in love with since I was six years old, in case there’s a chance he could love me back._

“They’re gonna love you.” Will nuzzled into a tuft of his dark hair, and kissed his head.

This was entirely unfair to Gio, and an unfair situation all around. He was being selfish but found it hard to care. Will had spent too much of his life being quiet, passive, and playing by the rules. The biggest risk he’d ever taken was to pack his car and move the hell out of Hawkins, and that had turned out pretty great. Hadn’t it?

Bad idea or not, potentially damaging to his relationship or not, he had to do this. 

He had to.

——

July came fast, followed by a flight home, with a layover in Kansas, and an anxiety filled cab ride to the new house, the one closer to town that had been bought when his Mom moved in with Jim last year (all part of the world’s slowest courtship), and where she insisted on putting them up in the guest room.

Jim was retired now, spending his days skeet shooting and teaching firearm safety at the community college, while his Mom continued to work at the store, more out of habit and loyalty than anything. They didn’t need the money really; the settlement from Hawkins lab finally paid out two years ago after a protracted legal battle, and it was a pittance for the lives their reckless behavior took, but more than enough to let them live comfortably and buy a new place.

When they arrived, his Mom grabbed Will like she was never going to let him go, nails digging into his jacket as she held him. She wept softly into his chest, saying over and over again “Don’t you dare stay away so long again. Don’t you dare.” It was still weird being taller than her, even though it had taken him ages to get there, and he breathed in his Mom’s scent, the same Love’s Baby Soft she’d worn for years, and told her he’d missed her too.

Jim gave him a much shorter hug, tight and punctuated with a forceful clap on the back, but just as emotional, albeit in a different way. “Good to see you Will. I was pretty surprised when your Mom here said you were coming home for, what was it again? Your reunion?”

“Yea. Ten years.” Will said, his eyes darting around the room; he’d only seen this place in photographs and it was nothing like the old house. There were no leaky pipes, worn carpets, or tiny bits of faded wallpaper pulling away from the wall. The doorway was clean, white molding and not the dinged up wood that documented the years of growth between him and his brother, made with thick black marker. The mantle above the fireplace was full of photographs, some he’d seen and a lot he hadn’t, and he spied Jonathan’s graduation photo buried near the back. 

Will’s eyes lowered when he saw how radiant his brother had been, looking like he was ready to go on and conquer the world. If they’d only known.

They had dinner that night, filled with far too much food for the four of them, and it was like he’d never left. They talked about everything and nothing at all, and Gio rested his arm on the back of Will’s chair, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Sensing he was a bit too tired, Gio took over the conversation, making his Mom and Jim laugh with tales of his journalistic exploits at the San Francisco Chronicle. It was all stuff Will had heard before, but it never failed to entertain and he used it as the perfect time to excuse himself, saying he was exhausted, and left the three of them at the table, talking long into the night.

It was after midnight, Will guessed, that Gio finally made it to bed, and somewhere around 4 am when Will found he couldn’t sleep, and quietly threw back the covers and tip-toed down the hallway. He stole his Mom’s car keys from the basket near the door and found himself driving down those long familiar streets, muscle memory taking him towards a house on the outskirts of town that he hadn’t seen in a decade. It sat there, dark and abandoned, and in a terrible state of disrepair.

Broken and empty. Will wondered if he wasn’t exactly like that house.

He sat, engine off, and stared at it until the first rays of sunlight began to hit the horizon, and then he shook himself out of his trance, drove back, and slipped into bed before anyone could realize he’d been gone.

_____

The reunion was Saturday night, which left Will with all of Friday to do nothing but sit and stew in his nerves, or get out of the house and do a little reconnaissance. He still had no idea who would be at the reunion, but Dustin still lived in town, and he’d tracked down his current address online. Will ran out the door, kissing Gio goodbye and telling him he had some quick errands to run, and that he’d show him around town later. Gio was thoroughly jet lagged, so he didn’t put up much of a fight, and soon Will was on the road.

According to his search, Dustin lived in a house off Miller road, two miles from the high school and adjacent to the park where they used to play as kids. He had no idea what he was going to say, and wasn’t sure Dustin wouldn’t just slam the door in his face.

He wouldn’t blame him.

Will drummed his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, keeping time with some pop song on the radio he didn’t know, and after circling the neighborhood a few times, he finally had the courage to pull into the drive of the blue two-storey with the large oak trees in the yard.

It took him a ridiculously long time to get out of the car, but he forced himself, thinking that it might get a bit awkward should anyone from the inside look out to see a creepy man loitering in his car. He rang the doorbell and inside a dog barked, and after a moment or two the dung swung open and…there he was. He looked close to what Will remembered from graduation, if not a bit stockier, and his curls had been tamed into something less wild. 

He was too preoccupied with getting the golden retriever at his side to step back to really look at the man on his doorstep, but when he did, Will could see the moment the recognition washed over his face and his jaw dropped wide open.

The screen door opened and Dustin greeted him with two words:

“Holy shit.”

______

“I’m not going to ask why you left like you did. We know why. What I am going to ask is why you never even tried man. We were your best friends. We were like brothers, and it’s been ten years without a word. Ten years!”

Lucas Sinclair had probably changed the most physically, thought Will. He’d morphed from a nerdy, gangly teenager to someone who radiated confidence and masculinity. He looked like a real adult, not someone just playing the role, which was how Will felt most of the time.

Dustin had lost his mind when Will showed up at his door, ushering him inside and giving him a bear hug, before reaching for the phone and insisting that he “had to call Lucas” who was in town for the reunion, staying at the Holiday Inn by the interstate, as his parents had moved to Chicago a few years ago. It had been an emotional reunion with Dustin, full of  hugging and snuffling back tears, and the years fell away between them.

The reunion with Lucas was decidedly more stilted in nature. Lucas had gone through all the same motions as Lucas; there was the shock, then the hug, but whereas Dustin had spilled all his emotions for everyone to see, Lucas was keeping his closer to the vest. If anything, there was a palpable tension between them, and Will felt there were so many things that he wanted to say, but was holding back.

“It was just too hard.” Will said, staring down at the red Formica table top. The three of them had gone across the street from the hotel to a diner, where they drank coffee and tried to fight the awkwardness creeping in. “I thought if I could get away from everything, from everyone, then I could forget. And if I could forget, then it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

That seemed to placate Lucas for the time being; his face softened and he simply nodded like he understood. They didn’t need to rehash the story any more than that, they had all lived it, and knew what happened the night they’d destroyed the Upside Down and how El almost died using her powers to defeat Papa, and how Jonathan did die saving them all.

The silence was just on the edge of oppressive when Dustin spoke. “So, what brings you back really? I find it hard to believe that you flew in from California to make small talk with classmates you couldn’t stand while 'Everybody Wang Chung Tonight’ plays in the background.”

Will laughed. That was a truly horrendous vision. “No, I can’t say that I did. But I did want to see you guys again. I thought maybe you would attend.” He took a deep breath and asked the one thing that had been on his mind from the start. “Do you know if Mike is going to be there?”

Lucas and Dustin exchanged a look. Will couldn’t get a read on it, as it passed so quickly. 

“I spoke to him last month. He said he was gonna come, since he was gonna be in town anyways. Holly’s high school graduation party.” Lucas said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Shit. We’re getting old.” Will groaned. “I still can’t believe you’re a teacher at Hawkins.” He hit Dustin on the shoulder.

Dustin gave him a big smile; his adult teeth had long since come in, and Will thought it had to be one of the nicest smiles he’d ever seen. “It pays the bills, so can’t complain. Gotta pay for a wedding somehow.”

“That’s right. Leslie, isn’t it?”

“Yep. She’s way out of my league too. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“I’d say she’s the one who got lucky.” Will smiled and Dustin ducked his head bashfully. “And you too Lucas, congrats on marrying Max. That was a surprise.”

Lucas smiled the same toothy grin he’d used to whenever he won a bet and got to pick his choice of someone’s comic books for a reward. It was clear he was ridiculously in love. “Thanks. Yea, we just stuck together. We had a rocky period in college, broke up for a little bit, but after a while we realized we couldn’t be apart. Thinking of starting a family soon.”

“Oh wow.”

“What about you…are you seeing anyone?”

It was said with all the air of nonchalance, but Will could sense that Lucas was dying of curiosity. He’d been the only one of the group to never date in high school, and since he’d never brought it up out of self preservation, having known he was gay since he was seven, the others had never mentioned it either. But he always knew that if given the chance, they would want to know what his deal was.

So Will finally came out to his friends. “Yeah. His name is Giorgio. Gio, that is. We met while I was in art school. It’s been a few years now." 

There was not much of a reaction–it couldn’t possibly have been a massive shock–beyond a brief knowing glance that passed between them. Will wondered if it conveyed an 'I told you so’ or a ”you owe me twenty bucks’.

“That’s good.” Lucas said. 

“Yea man, glad you’re happy.”

“So what about Mike?” It came out clunky and rushed, and not at all in the cool, casual way Will had planned.

“What about him?”

“Is he, uh, you know…single? Seeing anyone, I mean? Like, what’s his situation?” Will coughed, his throat suddenly dry, and took a drink of his coffee, now gone cold. He grimaced. There was another, less subtle look between Lucas and Dustin, and Will wasn’t stupid, he knew how that all sounded, and he wanted to slide down the booth into a puddle on the floor to avoid whatever was coming next.

“Not that I know of.” Lucas said, silently signaling the passing waitress for a fill up. “The last thing I knew was that he broke up with,” There was a pause. “John about six months ago.”

Will tried to feign surprise and act casual at the same time, and was sure the expression on his face was a mess.

“But I bet you already knew that, didn’t you?” Lucas said, a sly smile curving his lips.

“About John? No, no I didn’t know about John. My detective skills aren’t that great.” Will laughed weakly.

“No, not about John specifically, but that Mike is, you know, bi. That he dates guys too.”

Will’s cheeks burned, and suddenly he felt like a teenager again, reduced to a quivering mess of embarrassment. Somehow Mike Wheeler was the only one who could make him feel that way.

“Umm, maybe.”

“I knew it! I knew it!” Dustin crowed, ignoring the amused looks the waitress shot him as she paused to pour them refills. “I knew the reason you showed up out of the blue had something to do with Mike. I mean, I know you love us too and all that blah blah, but come on, compared to Mike it’s no contest.”

“And we’ve always had our suspicions.” Lucas shook a sugar packet violently.

Will wasn’t stupid, he knew where this was going, he was just more shocked that they’d managed to pick up on it at all. Perhaps he should have given them more credit. Perhaps he should have tried to be less oblivious; tried harder to hide his heart. 

“Suspicions about what?”

“You have a thing for Mike, right?” Dustin grinned, looking like this was the best thing to ever happen to him.

“I, uh…”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Dustin assured him. “And hardly surprising. You two always did have a special bond. Mike and Will. Plus you looked at him like he "hung the stars” as my Mom would say.“

Will winced. Had he been that bad? 

"I…I did?”

“At the time we chalked it up to hero worship or something, but as we got older and it was clear you had no interest in girls…well me and Dustin always kinda wondered.”

“Ah.” Will smiled. It actually felt pretty great getting all of this out in the open between them. “No, not hero worship, just me being gay. Really, really gay.”

The three of them laughed for what felt like forever, releasing any of the left over tension and anger bottled up inside them, and it was like the old days again. They sat in the booth in the corner talking about the last ten years of their lives; Lucas regaled them with crazy tales from his college days, while Dustin spoke about the year he took off from school to backpack across the country, and the both of them filled Will in on El, who was currently working on some sort of top secret government project in Washington, this time of her own choosing, while caring for her Mother whom she’d gone to live with right after graduation. Hopper had taken it hard, even though he’d understood and they apparently were still in touch. Will wondered why his Mom never thought to mention that. Perhaps it was like everyone else–he simply had refused to let her tell him anything about his past, and this was just one more thing she knew Will didn’t want to know.

“So you came back to, what exactly?” Asked Lucas after a natural pause in the conversation. “Go after Mike like in some sort of Meg Ryan movie?”

“I don’t know.” Will shrugged. He truly didn’t know what he was going to do. “I just knew I had to come. I had to see him again.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“I don’t know.”

_______

When Saturday evening rolled around, Will was an absolute mess. He didn’t drink much anymore, not since a few truly epic nights in his early twenties when he’d learned his lesson about overconsumption, but he needed something to calm the nerves, so he practically tore the kitchen apart until he found where his Mom kept the booze. There wasn’t much of a selection, just a barely touched bottle of cheap vodka and a bottle of Jack Daniels. He hated whiskey with a passion, but it also did the best and quickest job of making his limbs feel like jelly, so he did two quick shots in a row, and soon the whole world was a little nicer, a little warmer.

The reception was at eight, and by six thirty Will had showered and was standing in front of the mirror, deciding if he should wear a tie with his suit, or go for a more casual look and leave the top two buttons open. He wondered what Mike would like best, and what Mike would be wearing, and before too long a hand was shaking him and he realized he’d drifted off completely.

“What were you thinking about just now?” A voice said into his ear, deep and teasing. Will looked up to see Gio standing behind him, running his hands up and down his arms. The gesture was intimate and possessive and Will wondered if deep down he could sense that his thoughts had been on another man.

“Oh, nothing really. Just zoned out I guess." 

"Really? You had this sort of dopey look on your face.”

“Oh. That’s weird. Honestly, I must just be a bit anxious is all. I haven’t seen these people in a long time.”

Gio only hummed in response and reached toward the bureau, where three ties in various colors and patterns had been laid out, waiting for Will to make up his mind.

“I think you should go with the tie. Definitely. And this one here–the green one–works well with your suit and the color brings out your eyes.” He grabbed it and draped it around Will’s neck, turning him around. Will never could tie one of those things, and Gio was well aware. The “here let me” was unnecessary, but he said it anyways.

“So how come you never told me about Mike?” His hands moved slowly though the motions, tying the silky fabric into the appropriate knot.

Will tensed. “What about him?”

“He was your best friend, right? Your Mom had lots of time to fill me in yesterday since your "quick little trip” to the store took most of the day.“ He raised an eyebrow. "She said you two were best friends since kindergarten, and I’m just wondering why you’ve never mentioned him before?”

“Maybe because there was nothing to mention?”

“I wish I could believe you, but you know me. Once a journalist, always a journalist. I know when there’s a story.” He teased.

“No there isn’t.” Will’s voice was curt; the last thing he wanted was to get into this, especially when his nerves were already shot, and there was a high likelihood that he’d say something he’d regret. “There’s no story there. People grow up. They grow apart. That’s it.”

“Is he going to be there tonight? I’d really like to meet him.”

“I don’t know. I…it’s been a long time. Maybe. I…don’t know.”

Gio searched his face as he ran his fingers down the length of Will’s tie and down to his shirt, where they rested there on his torso for a minute. Will stepped back and Gio’s hands fell to his sides.  
“Were you two ever? I mean did you…”

Will laughed. He hoped it did a good enough job of letting him know that this line of questioning was ridiculous and to just let it go already. “No. No he…no we never were.”

“So you never were a thing?”

“Nope.” This at least he could sell, seeing as how it was the truth.

“Did you want to be though?”

The question hit Will like a punch to the guts, even though he’d known where this conversation had been heading all along. He wanted to lie; lie in such a convincing manner that nothing would ever be said again, or to run from the room, fake an emergency, anything to get his boyfriends deep eyes to stop drilling into him.

“I…”

Gio moved closer and reached for his hand. Their fingers entwined loosely. “It’s okay Will. We both had lives before we met. We both dated other people. Had our fair share of unrequited feelings too I’m sure. It’s fine. You can tell me.”

“Yes, alright!” He said a bit too forcefully. “I liked him. But he….I thought he was straight.”

Gio’s eyes were soft and sympathetic, until the full impact of Will’s words washed over him and then they narrowed. He fixed him with a pointed look.

“Thought he was straight?”

Will knew immediately that he had fucked up. He knew that not only had he just stuck his foot into his mouth, but that the truth was written all over his face. 

“Um…”

“You thought he was straight but….is he not?”

“Umm…”

“I’m gonna take that as a no.” His fingers lost their delicate grip on Will’s and he pulled away, suspicion etched into every line on his face.

“When did you find this out exactly?”

The silence was too long, too telling, and suddenly the situation was a runway train, with nothing he could do to stop it. 

“Is that why we’re here? Why you just had to come home all of a sudden, even though you wouldn’t come home for years–years?!? Even though your Mom begged you. Because you found out that your straight best friend isn’t so straight after all? Did you come here to, what? Finally make a move?! Tell me that’s not why we came here!”

Will ran a hand down his face, and scrubbed at his eyes until sparks danced behind them, thinking that if he could say what he had to say without looking at Gio, it would somehow go over better.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t even want you to come.” He meant it as a comfort, as a way to say he’d never intended to hurt him, let alone flaunt it in his face, but it came out all wrong, and Gio visibly flinched as if slapped. Then he moved to the bed, sitting down on the rumpled covers, looking utterly lost.

That was when the tears started. “I’m sorry.” Will said, through ragged gasps. “I’ve been in love with him since I was six years old.”

“What about me?”

Gio’s voice was tiny, but only for a moment. The longer it took Will to respond, the longer he stood there, swimming in his own misery and choking back sobs, the more Gio’s anger grew.

“You know what? Forget it.” He finally snapped. “I’m going out. Whatever happens tonight, I won’t be here when you get home. Have your fun, go to your reunion and see your Mike, but I refuse to wait around being your second choice!”

When he left, Will collapsed onto the bed and let his tears fall. He wanted to be able to stand up, to run after him, to apologize and tell him that he’d been stupid, and that he was the only one Will loved.  
But it would have been a lie.

Because all Will thought was “You’ve always been my second choice. Always.”

——

Fortunately (or unfortunately as his puffy eyes could attest) Will didn’t have much time to wallow, and after some time to calm down and a few cold splashes of water to his face, he was out the door and off to face his past, while his present was a mess and his future a giant question mark.

The venue looked like the eighties threw up in it, and it was part horrible and part wonderful, all wrapped up in twinkling fairy lights and an overwhelming sense of dread. Some Belinda Carslile song that he vaguely remembered being popular was playing as he walked in, and heads here and there swiveled in his direction. Their smiles were friendly, even as they undoubtedly were wracking their brains as to who he could be. He doubted they would recognize him. He’d grown taller and filled out considerably since then, and most of his classmates only remembered Will Byers as the scrawny kid with the bad bowl cut.

He got himself a beer at the bar, mostly just to have something to do with his hands, and leaned up against a high-top table in the corner, surveying the room. The place was packed, full of groups mingling and dancing, and some faces he recognized immediately, while others he did not.

After a few minutes of standing there alone and wondering if this was a terrible idea, a girl approached and asked him to sign next to his picture in the yearbook. Her name was Lisa and even when she told him her maiden name he still couldn’t remember her, but he smiled politely and took the book anyways. He signed next to his picture, cringing at his goofy smile, before flipping back to the last page, to Mike’s picture, and the long forgotten senior quote made him laugh out loud.

**“Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.”**

They’d seen that movie at least twenty times; sometimes with the whole gang, but many times just the two of them, alone in the dark, Will’s heart beating double time as Mike’s hand rested just inches from his.

“Thank you.” She smiled, and the two made idle chit chat for a few minutes, before she was off to hunt down the other remaining classmates who hadn’t signed it back in 1989. 

Will continued to stand there, nursing his beer as assorted hits of the 1980’s blasted from the DJ’s speakers (including Wang Chung Tonight) and eventually more and more people started trickling over to him; mostly the few classmates that had actually bothered to be nice to him, or not ignore him altogether during his high school years. Some who didn’t know who he was seemed delighted to find out that he was Will Byers, and not one brought up the “zombie boy” moniker or his disappearance. Jennifer Hayes was among them, instantly recognizable as she hadn’t changed a bit, and his time was filled with some awkward, yet friendly conversation.

Even the girl he’d had his first dance with at their eighth grade snow ball, Brittany something, was there saying hello with her girlfriend of five years on her arm, and all he thought was “Well that’s pretty much perfect isn’t it?”

The most surreal part of it all though was when Troy, paunchy and with the beginnings of male pattern baldness, came over drunk and tried to act as if he hadn’t made Will’s life a living hell all those years ago. He casually threw his arm around Will’s shoulder, leaned in too close when he spoke, sending puffs of stale alcohol laden breath into Will’s face, and insisted on bringing up the “good times” they had together, which in reality amounted to zero.

After a few minutes of torture, Will was convinced that Troy had actually started to hit on him, suggesting they go somewhere “quieter” to “talk”, reminding him of the same way he’d used to be propositioned in night clubs, back in his single days. Will turned him down and when Troy slipped a business card into his hand, telling him to keep in touch with a wink, he promptly dumped it into an abandoned, half drank cup of booze and cigarette butts. It sadly wasn’t that shocking, and a part of Will felt a pang of sorrow for the circumstances that drove people so deep into the closet that they lashed out violently at anyone who dared to crack open the door, but he wasn’t there to help his ex bully work through his sexual identity crisis.

What he was there for, well, he wasn’t sure, and as the night ticked on without a sign of Mike Wheeler, he grew more and more nervous that he’d made a giant mistake. Downing the dregs of his lukewarm beer, he moved to head to the bar for another when he felt a clap to his shoulder. 

“If I have to hear another conversation about Y2K I am going to scream.” Dustin was there, drink clutched in his hand. The song '1999’ by Prince had just started to play, making the place go bananas, and Will struggled to hear him over the noise.

Will felt himself immediately relax. He didn’t realize how tense he’d been. “Hey, thank God, I was starting to think no one was going to show.”

“I’ve been here for a while, circulating.” Lucas said, gesturing about the room. “Did you know Randy Sussman is some big shot internet guy now? He drove here in a Lambo. I was out in the parking lot admiring it. Pretty sweet.”

“Wow really?”

“Yep. Even said he’d give me a ride in it later. And remember Stacey?”

“Stacey the girl you mooned over all through high school even though she would never give you the time of day? That Stacey?”

Dustin rolled his eyes at Will’s sarcasm. “Yep. Pretty sure she was giving me the eye.”

“The eye?”

“Yea.” Dustin puffed up a bit, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket. “Ran into her over by the bar. She was definitely liking what she saw. Too bad for her I am very happily engaged.”

Will snorted. “I’m sure she was.”

“She totally was!”

“Ten years and you’re still on about Stacy Sanders. Some things never change.” A female voice interrupted.

Will and Dustin turned to see Lucas beside them, his arm wrapped around the waist of Max, who was openly laughing. Her fiery red hair was cut into a chin length bob and she was wearing a smart black suit–almost identical to the one Lucas was wearing–except that it was obviously cut for a woman. She’d only grown more beautiful over the years.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She said and without hesitation stepped forward, embracing Will. “It’s so good to see you again.” She murmured into the crook of his neck, squeezing him tighter. 

The two of them had never been as close as the rest of the group, but they’d always gotten along and possessed a natural, easy chemistry.

“God, you’ve grown so much. Shit, I sound like my Mom.” She rolled her eyes and everyone laughed. 

“I didn’t even know you were coming.” Will said, stepping back, put keeping his hands lightly on her shoulders.

“I wasn’t till this morning. I had some work commitments to finish so…”

“I can’t believe we’re all in the same place again.” Will said, taking in the three of them and feeling incredibly lucky to have been given this second chance. He’d honestly never thought he would see them again, and the idea he’d wasted so much time when this was waiting for him–this perfect group of friends–filled him with regret. Jonathan hadn’t….he hadn’t died for this. He hadn’t sacrificed his life so that Will could live half of one, separated from everyone he’d loved.

“It’s surreal.” Dustin said.

“Well, almost all of us.” Lucas corrected.

Max frowned. “Yea, El is very…busy. Saving the world and all that stuff.”

"And Mike…” Will began.

“I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Me either.”

Will was just about to open his mouth, say something about how maybe it was all for the best, when he looked up to see the couples on the dance floor part just so, and like a scene from a movie, Mike Wheeler came into view, standing by the bar and looking out over the room as if searching for someone. The strains of some slow song filled the air and Will felt his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. There he was, after so long, and he’d grown even more impossibly beautiful.

As soon as Will thought “God please be looking for me”, their eyes met and locked on to each other.

It was so heart-stoppingly romantic that he almost forgot to breathe, and Mike just stared back at him, face unreadable, as people moved around him. The rest of the world fell away at that moment, all the sights and the sounds, and it was like they were the only two people in the room, connected by an invisible thread.

Then there was a tap to Will’s shoulder and he blinked as the rest of group came back into focus. Dustin was looking straight at him, his lips moving, and it took a moment for Will to register the sound of his voice.

“Well, as much as I want to hang around and catch up, it’s probably best if we do that later, don’t ya think?” Dustin asked, catching Lucas’ eye and nodding in the direction of the bar.  
Lucas peered over his shoulder and his mouth made a little surprised 'O’ shape. “Ah, yeah. We can, uh, continue this later.” He started to guide Max away, who clearly hadn’t been filled in on anything yet.

“Wait. Why? What’s going on?”

Lucas fixed her with a look and communicated something to her in that silent way that all couples did, and she simply nodded and smiled back at Will.

“It was great to see you Will. We’ll get together later tonight or, uh, before we head back to Indianapolis." 

The three of them made a hasty exit; Dustin patting him on the shoulder and whispering a "Good luck”.

Will nodded a goodbye, too nervous to do anything but stare as Mike finally made his way over. Time seemed to stretch in infinity, the space between them too vast to traverse in a single lifetime, but then Mike was there, standing right in front of him. Close enough to touch.

“Will. You’re here.”

It took a moment to find his voice, and when he spoke it was with a humiliating crack. “I’m here.”

He didn’t know what he expected to happen next. He’d played this scenario in his mind over and over again, but it had always gotten a little fuzzy when it came to a certain point. That point was now. Mike was staring at him, no expression on his face, and Will braced himself for…what exactly? Cold words? Curses? Shouts? Accusations? Or the worst of all, silence as he turned to walk away, wanting nothing to do with the best friend who had walked out of his life ten years prior.

Will thought he deserved them all.

What he didn’t expect was for Mike to practically lunge at him and wrap him up in the biggest, tightest hug he’d ever experienced. He was wearing a sweater, something more adult now, soft blue cashmere, and he smelled like sandalwood and musk and Will’s eyes rolled back in his head with the pleasure of all of it. Mike felt like Christmas and New Years and fizzy champagne and home all wrapped up together, and Will wanted to live there, deep in his arms.

Mike pulled back first, his eyes were glossy with unshed tears and a thousand emotions, and Will was overcome with a need to lean forward and gently kiss all of the pain away. He wished he had the right to do so. Maybe if he’d been stronger, if he’d stuck around, he would have it.

“D–do you wanna get out of here?” Mike’s voice was low, husky. “Go someplace to talk that’s..”

“Quieter?” Will supplied, echoing the end of a million clumsy come ons. 

The corner of Mike’s mouth quirked up. “Uh, yeah.”

“Yes.”

_______

There was some awkward fumbling at the door as they left, not sure where they should go, if they should both drive or not, and in the end they decide to take Mike’s SUV back to his hotel, where he’d been staying to avoid his parents bickering, which apparently had not lessened in a decade. Will knew this wasn’t, well what it felt like (though God he would not be averse to that) and that it was something innocent, but there was too much electricity between them for it to be purely platonic.

They drove in silence, so much between them that it felt insurmountable, until Will found Mike’s hand sneaking over the armrest, finding Will’s in the dark and grabbing on to it like he was never going to let go. 

“I know why you left.” Mike says, staring straight ahead. “I know why you didn’t–”

“Mike,” Will cut in. “You don’t have to–”

“No. Let me say this while I have the guts, okay? Please.”

“O-Okay.”

They pass a few more streets before Mike speaks again. “I wanted to run away too, you know. After everything. I suppose in my own way I did, choosing to go to New York for school and all. I didn’t cut out everyone like you did but…” He was struggling, and Will rubbed his thumb against Mike’s skin, hoping it would soothe him. “I didn’t try as hard as I should have. I regret that every day I didn’t get in my car, or on a plane, and go out there and find you. I regret that I never knocked on your door and told you that I…”

“That you…what?”

The car slowed to a crawl before Mike turned it into the parking lot of the hotel, and came to a stop. “Lucas called me last night. I was actually thinking of ditching the whole reunion until he said you would be there. He also told me you had a boyfriend.”

“I do. Did.”

At that, Mike finally looked at him, the side of his face leaning into the headrest and the glow of the streetlight illuminating the contours of his face. “Did?”

“It’s complicated. But, it’s most likely over.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t sound remotely sorry, and Will bit his lip to hold back a smile. “He wasn’t too happy that I came here. That I came here to see you.” He squeezed Mike’s hand and noticed that they had both drifted closer to each other. “Mike, please tell me what you would have said…if you would have knocked on my door.”

There was a complicated expression on Mike’s face–somewhere between a grin and intense concentration–and Will couldn’t look away as the words spilled out of him.

“I would have said, come home William Byers. Come home to Hawkins. Come home to…me. And then I would have told you how much I loved you and needed you, and that I always have. I told you once that being your friend was the best decision I ever made, but not telling you this, well that was the worst. So I am telling you now.”

“I love you too Michael Wheeler.” Will sobbed, not caring at the tears streaming down his face, and then they were kissing, tentative at first, and then like teenagers, fogging up the windows in the cool night air.

_______

Will extended his stay in Hawkins for another few days before he absolutely had to get back to work and spent the days–and nights–glued to Mike’s side. His Mom was over the moon with the new development (though she was briefly sad “Poor Gio, he was very nice.”) and Jim only deigned to give them a sly look or two and leave the no doubt smug remarks to himself. They were also happy to share the title of “world’s longest courtship”.

All of it was more than Will had ever dreamt of, and it was incredibly easy, this switch from friends to lovers. Easy when you’ve been in love half your life, he supposed. They didn’t focus on all of their wasted time or hurts of the past, deciding that the second part of their story started now, and they deserved a clean slate. They kissed until they were breathless, laughed until their sides ached, and spent hours just sitting in content silence.

They made plans for their future, trying to figure out how the hell to embark on a relationship when they both had careers and lives on opposite coasts, but out of everything they’d taken on together and survived, that would be a piece of cake.

They had each other again. They would be fine. 

Will Byers would finally be fine.

THE END


End file.
